Food For Thought
by Kurohana Hitsugi
Summary: A new employee who needs to learn the ropes. Who better to show him around than Marc St. James? M for implication and innuendo. Marc/O.C


You could blame it on Yogurt In A Tube, aka Yube. Yes, yes, terribly named but simple to transport and utterly spoonless. However anyone eating Yube is usually seen as an incompetent fool who couldn't be arsed to get a spoon for themselves.

And once again, it did a brilliant job of making a fool out of the consumer. His name was Alec Greenwood and he was a journalist. His purpose in MODE on that fateful Yube-eating day was to meet with Daniel Meade, an old friend who had said that there could be a potential job for him. So he arrived at reception.

Now let's take a moment from the narrative to describe Alec, as the next part makes far more sense when you can picture him in your mind. Alec is 5'6" inches tall, with a size 9 foot and curly brown hair that ends mid-ear. He's of average build, and usually wears a suit (simple, clean cut, black) over a brightly colored shirt and a white, green or black tie. In winter he's been known to sport a peacoat and a hand knit blue scarf. He refuses to wear hats, no matter how cold he is. It's one of his eccentricities. He's cleans haven with neat Mr. Darcy sideburns. In fact, excluding his blue eyes, he looks a good deal like Mr. Darcy.

When Alec arrived at reception, his first thought was 'wowza that's a big circular desk'. He was right, of course. And behind that desk was Amanda Tanner. Alec stopped in front of the desk, and coughed quietly. Amanda looked up from a copy of ELLE (scandal!). Here he was; short, brown haired, mousy looking, and simply-yet-elegantly dressed. But he just wasn't... You know, her type.

"Hiiiii..." she drawled, leaning forwards as so to put her... Uh, assets on display. (What, just because she wasn't attracted to him doesn't mean he shouldn't be attracted to her.)

Alec looked at her, a little embarrassed but mostly unimpressed.

"Uh, hello. I'm here to see Daniel Meade?" he said, though it sounded as though he was asking it. Amanda scowled and leaned back.

"He's busy. I'll get someone to show you in. Wait here." Amanda said, and went off to find Marc. Obviously she had better things to do, and she wanted Marc here so that, in the event he'd dislike the Darcy-guy, they could laugh together. 2 is always better than one, you know.

Alec stood awkwardly, then remembered the Yube he had in his briefcase. He set his case down and tried to tear open the little plastic tube of yogurt. His nails were sorely lacking (he's a nail biter) and he was getting nowhere. He brought the tube to his mouth and bit in. After a few unsuccessful attempts at gnawing through the plastic he settled for tearing it open. The combined pushing of his squeezing hands and the force of his pulling teeth caused an explosion. The yogurt (vanilla) spurted all over his face and front, with very little ending up in his mouth.

"Oh!" he exclaimed in shock, blinking furiously.

"Oh. My. God." a male voice, albeit higher pitched said at the same time. Marc St. James. Alec looked up to see the much taller man standing next to him, and he blushed furiously, his pale face turning a violent shade of tomato red.

"I couldn't get it." Alec said lamely. Marc tittered and whispered to Amanda:

"It sure looks like you got IT to me!"

Alec was wiping his face with a handkerchief quickly, to avoid further embarrassment. Marc looked him over quickly. He liked it. Of course, Marc's opinion may have been clouded by the fact that when he arrived the other had had a face covered in a sticky white fluid, but there was something about the other that he liked.

"Alec Greenwood." Alec said, giving a little wave. Marc grinned to himself. Greenwood? The innuendos were practically writing themselves.

"Marc St. James." Marc said, grabbing Alec by the elbow and pulling him away from reception and gossipy eyes.

"So what's your job here?" Alec asked. Marc waved his free hand as if to say 'oh it's no big deal'.

"Wilhelmina Slater's Personal Assistant." Marc replied proudly. Alec nodded. He was unused to people he'd just met grabbing him but he couldn't say that he hated it. The only thing was that Marc was so much taller than him. Even in loafers Alec was 5'6 and a half at best, while Marc must've been around 5'11".

"What about you?" Marc asked, noticing that the shorter one had been sparing at him for the last minute, and he was becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm a writer, but Dan said he could get me a job here since I... Well, I've got a degree but what's that good for in the real world, right?" Alec chuckled self-mockingly, in a way that made Marc (a) want to giggle along and (b) tell him that he was a fine person and that his degree would be all kinds of useful.

"Dan? So what, are you that 'nicknamer' that every group of people has?" Marc asked. "And Alex, that's from Alexander, right?" Alec chuckled again.

"No, no. It's Al-ICK. With a 'c'." He replied. "And it's short for... Uh... Aleccsander. A L E C C S A N D E R." he finished spelling.

"One question. Um, why?" Marc asked.

"My mom was on a lot of chemical drugs when she was naming me." Alec said with a little shrug. Marc looked shocked.

"Your mother was doing chemical drugs while she was pregnant with-" he was cut off by a wave of Alec's hand.

"I was adopted. She was on acid while adopting me. Sometimes I think that's one of the reasons she adopted anyways, so that she wouldn't have to stop her 'habit'." Alec said. Marc looked at him, sadly.

"I'm Marc with a C." Marc said, trying to lighten the mood. Alec grinned.

"It's like we were destined to meet." Alec said with a grin. Marc looked at him, then smiled tentatively back. They'd arrived at the interior waiting room. Alec sat down, his case in his lap. Marc went to leave then turned and come back and leaned towards Alec. He licked his finger and swiped just above Alec's lip, pulling his finger away to reveal a coating of white Yube.

As he walked away he he stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the yogurt off the end.

"Yum."


End file.
